Memories of Blood
by Ms.GrinAndCry
Summary: Because sometimes, the one who loves us are the ones that run. And because sometimes, the ones who run don't always abandon us. Or, Uzumaki Naruto is 16 years old when he first meets his aunt. * experimental format *
1. Prologue

Prologue

_**Sixteen Years Prior**_

"_After years of bloodshed and war… after years of petty cruelty and sacrifices, I will know peace! It's all so terribly wonderful, don't you think? Our family is finally growing… maybe now, I can teach you what happiness is."_

_The woman stared at him with quiet intensity, her face an unreadable mask._

"_Perhaps," she said._

_Minato laughed, slightly embarrassed._

"_I have to say, though, I'm extremely surprised you bothered to show up," he smiled, "Not that I'm complaining. It's always nice to have you close."_

_The woman nodded in silent acknowledgement._

_The duo sat atop his apartment complex, conversing in whispers that were carried away by the cold wind and forgotten by the night._

_They drank some sake before dawn broke._

_Finally, before the first shinobi awoke, the woman left, but not before Minato said, "Naruto. His name will be Naruto."_


	2. Chapter 1

One

Tsunade doesn't know whether she made the right call or not.

She doesn't know if Naruto will ever forgive her.

But she's the Hokage, the bearer of the Will of Fire, the one who holds up Konohagakure, and she cannot afford to spare one shinobi's feelings over the success of the Fourth Shinobi War. Things are going south as it is. The white Zetsu's are almost impossible to kill, Konan, their only outside ally in Amegakure, has gone missing; Iwa's kage is being dense as always, the opportunistic old bastard waiting for an opening in their defense so he can fuck them over. Their attempts at a unified shinobi alliance was a failure. Not even Suna's young kage, Naruto's friend, Gaara no Sabaku, with his quiet charm and way with words, was able to bring them together in the face of what could possibly become the end of the shinobi world.

So she calls forth the only person worthy of making a difference against that old croak Madara and his band of freaks.

If that person ends up being related to one Uzumaki Naruto, well, that's got nothing to do with her.

She groans.

_But to think, for that woman to be so damn unapproachable…_

Tsunade rubs the bridge of her nose in annoyance, glancing out the window and resting her eyes on the distant horizon.

She's almost tempted to ditch the paperwork and down some sake, but she refrains.

There'll be enough time for alcohol once they win the war.


	3. Chapter 2

Two

It's late in the afternoon. She leans against a tree, hooded eyes lazily gazing between the nothingness of the forest; she takes a drag of her cigarette, glances sideways, holds his nervous gaze for a few seconds, and turns away to stare at the bloody sky.

Naruto shifts uneasily.

He keeps staring at the woman, trying to garner her attention, but she pays him no heed.

A small part inside of him is terrified. She looks so much like him…

He tries to crush the seed of hope that blossoms inside his ribcage, but every time he sees her, the hope inside him tears through years of barriers and fortified walls.

He doesn't know who she really is; he is not stupid enough to think the name she goes by is authentic. Her identity is a secret – and yet, he knows _exactly_ who she is.

And how couldn't he?

When he looks at her, he's looking back at himself. His warm blue eyes are a reflection of the specks of ice inside her orbs of steel and his blonde spiky hair is akin to her golden locks.

She's a stranger.

But she's also blood.

And there's nothing – _absolutely nothing_ – as important and desirable as blood to Uzumaki Naruto, village pariah and human sacrifice.

He's been dying to speak to her. He wants to ask, "_Why? Why didn't you ever bother to come looking for me, to look after your brother's son – your nephew? Why did you leave me alone…?"_

There are so many things he wants to talk about, so many things he's been dying to ask, but every time he works up the courage to speak, her eyes dig into him, and he can feel the intensity of her eyes claw through his false bravery until he's but shreds. Her lips curl into a slight sneer and she turns away from him, but not before he catches the battle of emotions that flash across her eyes.

She does not love him.

She does not love him and the very realization makes him weak.

She destroys him.


	4. Chapter 3

Three

He destroys her.

He stares at her with her brother's eyes, aquamarine orbs of hope and despair and pain and _yearning_, and he skins her until she's old bones and regret.

Those eyes of his, they could kill her.

Those eyes of his, they will kill her.

She knows what he holds amongst the wells of blue, she feels their electricity, and she avoids them. She runs.

She is a coward.

The resemblance between the boy and her brother is overwhelming.

She finds herself alone with him one day, finds herself abruptly captivated by his eyes – by Naruto's eyes. She's so caught on his gaze she almost forgets to put up her mask again.

She doesn't know what he sees just then, before she puts up the walls.

Revulsion, perhaps; maybe even disgust, guilt or shame. None of it is directed at him, however; she can only hope he understands that the things he might glimpse in her eyes are the reason why she hasn't stared into a mirror in sixteen years. Impotence, self-hatred, fury, red-hot and blinding white, all intermingled inside her body like a recipe for disaster; a brew of destruction, some concoction of misery that haunts her.

Her ghosts keep chasing her, and the only choice she has (not the only choice, but the only choice for a coward like her) is to _run_.


End file.
